Fool, Boy
by The Curly Flea
Summary: Some people seem to have a natural gift for pairing up their friends. He thought she was one of them. 'Palletshipping'
1. Chapter 1

**FOOL, BOY**

**Chapter One**

* * *

><p>Fool Me Once<p>

* * *

><p>"I think – oh, God – I think I love him, Dawn."<p>

"You love him? Aw, that's so cute!"

"...Really? That's all you have to say?"

"...I don't get it..."

"Look, you travel around with him all over the place – some advice, maybe?"

"Oh! In that case, I have the perfect idea!"

"Wait - what are you doing? Let go of my hand!"

"Nope, we're doing this."

"We're doing what? Where are we going?"

"We're going to tell him!"

"Hold it!"

"Hey, what's wrong? He's only just through these tre-"

"Stop it! We can't just tell him - mostly because he's probably too dense to understand a relationship with another guy, let alone a girl, but I can't just tell him – I might die!"

"Um… Why would you die?"

"Because I would be telling my life-long crush and past-rival that I think I love him, Dawn. Seriously, are you an idiot or something?"

"Of course not! Everyone tells me I'm just as intelligent as Ash is, and Ash isn't stupid, is he?"

"Oh, what the Hell have I done?"

* * *

><p>Fool Me Twice<p>

* * *

><p>"Okay! I have another plan!"<p>

"And what masterful strategy have you fabricated this time, almighty genius?"

"Genius? Aw, no one's called me that befo-"

"Dawn!"

"Yes?"

"The plan?"

"Oh, my plan! Well, you're the Grandson of_ the_ Professor Oak, the legendary Pokémon know-it-all and also, a poet!"

"So?"

"I think you should write him a poem!"

"A...poem?"

"Yep!"

"Eh, sorry Dawn, but I don't think Ash has the cultural knowledge to appreciate a haiku, let alone a full on, this-is-my-declaration-of-love-to-you-because-I-think-you-are-amazing-and-I-want-to-snog-your-face-off poem."

"You want to snog his face off?"

"Is that _all_ you picked up on?"

"Aw, that's so cute!"

"Stop fantasising about us, Dawn. We have more important matters at hand."

"Like what?"

"Is there anyone home in there?"

"..."

"What have we been talking about for the past hour?"

"Oh... that."

"Yes, _that._"

"Like I said – write a poem!"

"I really-"

"Look, I could give it to him if you want. He won't know it's from you and I can say some person in a cape gave it to me."

"I don't want him thinking Lance gave him a love poem. That would just be creepy, and annoying, and weird. And God knows; he would do something like that..."

"Who's Lance?"

"Never mind."

"..."

"..."

"So, will you do it?"

"I don't know… Give me tonight to think about it."

* * *

><p>Fool Me, I'm a (Love-sick) Idiot<p>

* * *

><p>"So… I'm going to give you three days to write this poem and then we'll meet back here. I'll take the poem to Ash – not looking at it, obviously. I wouldn't be so rude as to peek at the private love poem of the great Gary Oak just because I love his poetry and I think that he's-"<p>

"You can proof-read it if you want to."

"Yes! Oh my God, this is so totally - I mean, uh, only if you want me to."

"Just let it out, Dawn"

"Eeeeeeee! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Hey, what do you think you're doing? Get off!"

"I love you so much but not like that because I only like Zoey like that but still – I love you!"

"Uh, thanks, I guess, but I still mean it – get off of me!"

"Sorry. Oh, this is so exciting!"

"You can be ecstatic for me."

"…"

"Dawn?"

"I'm trying not to explode with ecstaticness - whatever that is."

* * *

><p>Three long sleepless nights.<p>

Three stretching days filled with emotional anxiety.

The seconds, the minutes, the hours of waiting, waiting, waiting.

On the third day, the nesting Starly and Pidgey finally saw the solemn return of Gary Oak to the place of his confession.

He could not have looked more like living death if he tried.


	2. Chapter 2

**FOOL, BOY**

**Chapter Two**

* * *

><p>He had done it.<p>

He had climbed the tallest mountain, pushed aside his fears and stood proudly at the top, head lost in the clouds.

But he had yet to fly_._

Grimacing, Gary looked down at the scroll he held in his damp palms and sighed as the wind beat about his hair. He sat slumped on the same stump as he was exactly three days ago in a small, dimly lit clearing, amongst a forest of thick, dark trees. Their branches leered towards him and the smell of pine lingered in the air.

He was hot and fidgeting, despite the fact that the air was nippy and it looked like it was going to start pouring with rain at any second. 'All for the better if it does,' he thought miserably, 'at least then I wouldn't have to give this sorry excuse for literature to Dawn; to Ash.'

Stressed with worry, he ran a shaking hand through his auburn hair and sighed, tempted to tighten his grip into a fist and claim that he had _lost_ the poem. She would believe that too.

Unfortunately, he heard the loud crunching of boots on branches before he had the opportunity to put his half-baked plan into action. Shadows cast by towering trees crept towards him as he hesitantly rose to stand, turning unhurriedly to face the source of the noise - only to be assaulted by a flying _thing_, for a lack of better description.

"What the-", Gary, eyes immediately wide with shock, fell to the ground rather ungracefully. "Get off of me! Who on earth do you think you ar-"

"Gary!" From the sound of her voice he could easily tell that his assaulter was Dawn, and he berated himself – really, who else could have it been? He was given no time to recover from his dazed state before she perched herself on his lap, grabbing the collar of his black shirt and shaking him with uncontained excitement. His head flew back and forth. "Have you got it? Are you done? This is amazing, I'm so-"

"Excited? Gee, I can't tell," Gary winced as his back sparked with pain. Disgruntled, he unceremoniously pushing Dawn back onto the dewy grass, but she only pouted for a moment before leaping to her feet, with the abundance of an energetic Pachirisu. 'No wonder they make such good friends,' he thought, rolling his eyes and using the stump to help him stand.

Whilst hastily brushing down his shirt, he spotted the formidable roll of paper lying in a nearby patch of bright daisies, having been flung from his grip as he was unsuspectingly tackled. Gary persuaded himself to push any doubts he had to the side and gingerly picked it up before thrusting it towards Dawn's eager hands. "Take it quick, before I change my mind." He faced the ground with his eyes tightly shut. The poem was softly taken from his weak grip.

A few moments passed. Surprised by the returned silence, Gary took back his hand and looked up at the younger girl's face.

Dawn had the gift hovering in front of her nose with the delicate tips of her fingers and was admiring it with awe as its reflection shone in her big, blue, round eyes. An uncontrollable smile pulled at her lips and she unexpectedly squealed, jumping up and down with excitement. Her deep navy hair followed the movements of her body as the hem of her dress flew up and down, revealing the skin of her upper thigh.

In Gary's opinion, she appeared to be performing some sort of weird tribal dance.

He raised an eyebrow and wondered how on earth Brock put up with not only Ash, but this apparent psycho as well. Evidently, Brock wasn't completely sane either.

He'd always had his suspicions - the way he fell to pieces around cute girls? Totally not normal.

Gary's attention was drawn back to Dawn as her squealing became comprehensible. "I can't believe I am holding an intentionally written poem constructed by the, _the _Gary Oak! This is possibly the single, most important moment that I shall ever have in my petty and insignificant life!" Dawn held the poem in the air as if it were the Holy Grail.

Gary sweatdropped, raising a hand. "Sorry to interrupt the 'single, most important moment of your petty and insignificant life', but what about the Grand National?" The blue-haired, crazy person turned towards him dramatically and put a finger to his lips, leaning in close. He froze.

"Hush, you big amazing, amazing, amazing person. Nobody, including you, can taint this unmatched piece of inspirational work." Her breath ghosted over his lips, their noses almost touching. Gary shrank away from her finger and decided that it may be safer for his physical – and mental, perhaps - health to let her get on with her worshipping routine. "Now all that remains is to reveal unto the world the love confined within this series of complex and beautiful words, lines and stanzas," Dawn spoke theatrically while unfurling the crumpled sheet.

"Dawn, look, it's really not that good. My Grandfather was a _Pokémon _poet, not a love poe-"

"EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Gary was swiftly, and unbelievably loudly, interrupted by a fan-girlish squeal being emitted from the now head-shaking Dawn. Blushing profusely, her eyes were squeezed shut and her hands gripped the helpless sheet with delight.

Gary decided that yes, she would fit in well with a tribal celebration.

As the spectacle continued, he began to wish for some small miracle. Perhaps someone loved him enough to cause the paper to tear itself into tiny, miniscule, illegible pieces, or to make it spontaneously combust – preferably burning Dawn in the process. Unfortunately for Gary, no such thing happened - it was rather unsatisfying, he thought. What was the point of looking good when nobody loved you for it?

Gary sank back down onto his stump and dropped his head onto his palms. In an effort to prevent himself from going deaf, he moved his hands over his ears and resorted to glaring at the oblivious bouncing young girl.

"This is just too cute for words – it's so lovely and adorable and I could read it over and over and over and ove-"

"If it's too cute for words, why are you still going on about it?" Gary muttered under his breath.

"-nd over and over and over and over and over an-"

"I mean, it's not even that good."

"-ver and over and over and over and over and ov-"

"Grandpa probably _could_ do better, in all honesty."

"-d over and over and over and over and over and-"

"Over?"

"Exactly!"

"Well, who knew?"

Dawn approached Gary and pat him repeatedly on the head, smiling all the while as Gary scowled. "Oh, you're so cute. Ash will love this for sure! And the best part – he won't even know it's from you!" Gary frowned and ruffled his hair back to its original, _artistic _style, glaring at Dawn all the while, before a movement in the foliage caught his eye.

His sight quickly focused on a point beyond Dawn, and he cocked his head as he tried to see into the darkness. He could hear something now, too – a rustle from the trees opposite him. The leaves were shaking hazardously as something attempted to breach the branches they hung from. He stood up.

"There's a-there's a…_thing_. In _there._"

Dawn immediately noticed his change in demeanour. "A thing? Gary, are you okay? Uh, hello?" She waved a hand in front of his unresponsive face before turning to look behind her.

She was met with an amusing sight.

"Dawn is that you? And – and is that Gary?"

"Oh, Brock! We didn't hear you coming!" Dawn skipped over to a puzzled and exhausted Brock as he semi-tripped out of the forage, covered in an array of twigs, soil and leaves.

Gary breathed a sigh of relief.

"How could you not have?" The breeder stood tall, panting slightly before brushing a hand over his eyes, "I was crashing all over the place – it's pitch black in there!"

"Oh, that's funny, because I can see the path that you made through the trees quite clearly," Gary commented, peeking over Dawn's shoulder. "In fact, it looks like you had your eyes closed the whole way." He plucked a twig out of Brock's now-chaotic hair, which looked like it had been temporarily inhabited by a group of party-mad stick insects.

"Trust me," Brock started brushing down his clothes, "I had my eyes wide open the whole time. I would have fallen in that massive black lake back there otherwise." Brock turned away, muttering about a rampaging Gyarados and thousands of Magikarp, leaving Gary and Dawn staring down the 'pathway'. They turned to each other, confused.

"I thought that there were no lakes here," Dawn whispered to Gary. He nodded.

"There aren't – it's just dense woodland." Gary grinned. "It looks like someone needs to open his eyes."

"He always told me they were open!" Dawn exclaimed loudly before Gary tackled her to the ground in a panic, "I knew I shouldn't have believed him, especially when he nearly walked off of a cli-mm!" Brock turned towards them as Gary fought with the struggling trainer.

"What was that?"

"Nothing!" Gary yelled with a hand over Dawn's mouth.

"Okay, but seriously," Brock pointed at the tree beside Gary, "no tackling girls to the ground, unless it's Nurse Joy or something." Gary looked unimpressed.

"Brock, first of all, although Dawn is definitely not Nurse Joy," Gary faintly heard Dawn protesting against the lack of recognition as a true woman, "the situation required this action." The Pokémon Breeder raised an eyebrow at the tree. "And second of all," Dawn managed to break free, glaring at Gary and stalking towards Brock, "you are pulling faces at a _tree_." Gary waved and Brock looked over, slightly surprised. He then frowned before holding his chin in the crook of his hand and analysing the young researcher.

"Well, your hair does bare resemblance to a tree, so I'm not the one to blame," Brock shrugged as Dawn too casted a critical eye over Gary's apparently plant-like choice of hairstyle.

"I agree," she finally spoke after several minutes of contemplation. Gary blinked.

"Is that it?"

"Mmm… Yep," Dawn went to pat his hair once more but he swatted her hand away impatiently before she had the chance to touch one tiny strand and with a scowl, he flopped back to sit on the stump behind him. Gary could not help but wonder why such an airhead existed – and why was he the fool that asked for _her_ assistance?

He sighed, putting his face in his hands. He was becoming far more accustomed to this action than he should be.

"Anyway," Brock interrupted his demoralising thoughts, "why were you talking about Ash? I heard Dawn squealing, so don't try and pretend you don't know," Brock punctuated with a glare at Gary.

Gary ignored him, instead looking towards Dawn. Hopefully, her brain may work adequately for once and she may not spill _everything._

"Oh, Brock! Gary wrote a totally cute poem for Ash confessing his undying love to him!" Dawn giggled with glee, showing off the poem proudly, and Gary gaped at the stupid, _stupid_ girl.

It was at times like these that he wished he was Misty. Misty, equipped with her giant, violent, oh-so lovely mallet.

Unfortunately, due to his lack of such wishes, he was forced to glare evilly at the painfully oblivious girl instead. It did not do half as much damage as he had hoped.

Brock paused for a moment, thinking upon the newfound knowledge that Gary, Ash's past-rival and present-person-that-they-don't-see-all-that-often, was madly in love with Ash, dimwit of the century and the once-bane of Gary's existence. Also, Gary had written a poem. To Ash.

"Gary, I don't think Ash is culturally educated enough to understand a riddle, let alone a love poem," Brock stated, looking at Gary thoughtfully as he scanned the sheet held before him.

Gary glared back with 'no-shit, Sherlock' plastered over his face before replying, "You think I don't know that? Anyway, it was _her_ idea." He threw his thumb in Dawn's direction, causing Brock to stifle a laugh.

"And you listened to her?"

"Oh, God, I know. Don't remind me."

"It's been one of those days, huh?"

"Shut-up, Brock."

The breeder stopped talking and looked away from the fuming researcher.

The pair came to a silence as Gary fumed on his stump and Dawn skipped around in the background, reading the poem to herself for the seventh time.

"'_Sorry can't fix the things that I've done to you, but believe me Ash when I tell you this – I love you.' _Aww, this is so cute! I want to cry! But I won't because then I won't be able to read it again, which I have to do! '_I understand this must be strange, to receive a poem with no name, but it is a love poem nonetheless, one in which I can confess.'" _Dawn babbled on as Gary blushed brightly and groaned with shame.

Internally, Gary felt like crying. How on earth was he supposed to woo the love of his life with a piece of literature that could barely come under the genre of 'poetry'? Through the cloud of distraught hanging morbidly over his head, Gary felt something nudging his shoulder.

He turned to growl at the intruder, but was instead rewarded with a mouth full of yellow fur.

Gary coughed and spluttered and stuck his tongue out before spitting on the ground. He may love Pokémon, but that did not mean he wanted to taste their fur.

"Pika?" Bright glossy eyes peered up towards his face as red cheeks sparked with barely withheld electricity. Gary sighed with exasperation.

"Fabulous. Now the whole gang is here. Minus the idiot."

"Says the one who loves the idiot," Brock muttered, right before the protective Pikachu let loose an electric attack on his Master's secret admirer. Needless to say, Gary's artistic hair now looked like the back end of a Mareep, causing the small Pokémon sitting on his shoulder great amusement. Gary looked far less amused.

Meanwhile, Brock was still picking twigs from his hair and Dawn was still reading the poem to herself 'over and over and over'. Pikachu was relaxing, content, on the frazzled researcher's jittery shoulder.

Gary, although still annoyed, was now quite restless. With little care, he brushed the electric mouse off of its perch before getting to his feet, causing it to land in a disgruntled heap next to the stump. Before it could strike Gary with another attack, however, it was gathered up by Dawn, who had taken a few seconds from absorbing the poetry on the now-quite weary looking piece of paper.

Gary put a hand over his mouth and the other in his pocket as he glanced at the paper being clutched by Dawn and pointed at by Pikachu. For once, bar the small noises from the Pokémon, it was peaceful in the little clearing.

Gary could clear his mind of the idiots in his presence and think about whether this was the right thing to do. In contemplation, he thought that although a poem was a good way to infer feelings towards another individual, it would not turn out to be so effective if the poem was not any good, or, as it was in his case, the secret admirer was not named – or the recipient was denser than a Psyduck. They could be going in circles for ages.

Gary wanted a straight answer – he certainly did not want to be led on or, God forbid, forced to hang around his unbeknownst crush like a love-sick Lillipup. Either go for it, or cut yourself loose: Gary believed in self-preservation and did not like the idea of acting the fool.

He shrugged; that was Ash's job. Their relationship, if you could call it that, would have fallen to bits long ago if that had been the case. He liked Ash, he truly did. He liked him despite his idiotic tendencies, that deep-down he thought were very cute indeed, and regardless of the fact that he lacked common sense and certainly was not the brightest of the bunch, Gary found Ash overall to be just lovely; kind-hearted, even; always optimistic. Several things that Gary Oak knew he himself was not – not that he would ever admit it, of course. He liked the image of perfection that was often compared to him in the past and if that had been and gone, then, well, he supposed he could settle for the persona of sexiness.

Looking over towards his companions, he reached a decision: there was no way on Earth that he was going to give that poem to Ash. Gary Oak was going to do this face to face, personally, where Ash had nowhere to run.

Also, where Ash had no chance to formulate ideas about Lance writing him a love poem – that was the last thing he wanted.

Approaching Dawn, he wondered why he didn't do this earlier. He would have felt far more enlightened several days ago, for better or for worse, if the matter had simply been dealt with and pushed aside.

"Dawn?" Gary reached the pair relaxing in the quiet, sprawled across the grass. Neither of them were talking nor responded to his calling, so Gary coughed a bit to get their attention. Dawn languidly opened a lazy eye and gazed at him, before sighing in satisfaction.

"Yes?" She pushed herself into a sitting position and stretched, yawning with her mouth stretched wide. Gary fiddled with the sleeve of his shirt.

"I'm not going to give the poem to Ash." He spoke quickly, aware of the inevitable effect his statement would have on the girl. Dawn was devastated, looking as if she were about to burst into tears.

"But it was so cute and ador-"

"Dawn," Gary interrupted, putting a finger to his lips in a hushing motion, which she automatically abided to, "I'm not going to give the poem to Ash," he repeated, "but I am going to tell him that I love him - face to face." He sat down on the grass opposite Dawn to watch her reaction closely.

She bit her lip, looking at him and then off into the trees. "I think," she started, "I think that as much as I love that poem, which is a lot," Dawn illustrated with her arms stretched out wide, "you should do what you feel is right for you. Even if it involves the waste of a cute and adorab-"

"Yeah, okay, thanks Dawn. That's all I wanted to hear," Gary laughed nervously, slightly worried at the level of love Dawn seemed to have for that poem. Dawn sighed and played with the hem of her white hat.

"You know, I said you should do that in my first plan, but you dismissed it because you said you would die. And you called me an idiot…"

"I know, Dawn." Gary inwardly shrivelled under the slight glare from the girl. He felt the need to apologize, "I'm sor…so…sor…" Okay, so he _almost_ felt the need to apologize, but that was not how Gary Oak rolled; not at all. "You know what, just give me the poem." Gary held his hand out expectantly, awaiting the small roll of paper.

His hand remained empty, and Dawn blinked quizzically at it.

"Dawn?" Gary repeated, gesturing with his open hand "The poem?"

Dawn smiled. "Oh, that?"

Gary let his hand drop to the soil.

"I gave that to Pikachu to take back to Ash. I attached a note too, saying that Brock and I say 'hi' and we'll be back soon." Well, at least his name wasn't on there. "Oh, I also put that Gary says 'hi' too, and I'm sending him a poem from some guy I met in a cape."

Guess he spoke too soon, huh.

"Dawn, you idiot!" Gary leapt to his feet and began to pace, pulling at his hair in frustration. "How can you be so, so," he could not finish, so he wildly gestured at the frozen girl instead.

"But I didn't say it was from you," she whined, "I said it was from a man in a cape."

"Now he's really going to think it's from Lance!"

"Who's Lance?"

"Never mind, Dawn!"

Gary abruptly stopped his frantic pacing and ran his hands through his hair, yanking on it harshly and wishing, _wishing_ he was not there right now and that he hadn't spoken to Dawn and that Pikachu wasn't on its way to its lovely, oblivious, innocent Master with a roll of paper that was going to change everything.

"Gary?" Broke said quietly with a solemn expression, not wanting to frustrate the hampered boy even more than necessary. Gary peeked at the breeder through his fingers, resisting the urge to kick something. "Maybe you should just go and talk to him now. I think this is your moment," Brock smiled encouragingly and Gary scowled in response.

"And how would you know when a moment is, considering you've never had one. Except with Professor Ivy – I heard about that. She told me some very interesting thi-"

"Uh, that _name. _Don't say that _name_," Brock dropped to his knees in pain and hid his face in the palms of his hands. Gary smirked.

"Ah, I also heard about this. Very funny, but I thought you were over it - apparently not." Gary skipped slowly over to Brock, all the while singing "_Brocky and Ivy sitting in a tree…_" in an incredibly childish manner, as Brock groaned on the floor, begging him to stop.

Dawn smirked. It appeared that the situation called for her assistance and her assistance it shall receive. Ah, how she had always wanted to do this - especially to Gary.

Perhaps a tad too enthusiastically, she drew out an oversized mallet from her bag and proceeded to thump Gary around the head.

For the second time that day, Gary flew to the ground with all the grace of a floundering Magikarp. Shocked, he touched his fingers to the side of his head before leaping to his feet, yelling at the astonished girl. "What the Hell was that for? You could have killed me! I can't believe you actually thought that was a good-" Gary paused as he peeked behind Dawn, where she was hiding the instrument of mortal doom. He narrowed his eyes. "Dawn, where did you get that mallet?"

"Oh, this?" Dawn tossed the tool up into the air and caught it with ease, giggling. "I got it out of my bag."

Gary face-palmed. Just when he thought she couldn't get any worse.

"Okay, Dawn, before that. Who gave you the mallet?" Gary spoke slowly and loudly, as if he were talking to a temperamental child. Dawn's eyes sparkled, and she smiled madly.

"May gave it to me!" Gary frowned. _May?_

"Okay, and exactly what was May doing with a mallet?" Dawn placed her hand on her chin, thinking deeply.

"Um, what did she say? Oh, all the girls who travel with Ash have to be peacekeepers," Dawn shook the mallet, "and this is our weapon of peacekeeping! I didn't want to use it, but I think you needed it." Gary glared at her, and Dawn shrank under his gaze, admitting to her small white lie. "Okay, so maybe I just wanted to use it for the first time."

"Dawn," Gary warned, wanting the answer that the girl knew she was going to have to give.

"Oh, I just wanted to use it on you, okay? I can't believe I used it over your head – wait, is your head okay? I didn't knock all of the poetry out, did I? Oh, what have I done?" Dawn radically changed emotions, slumping down onto the grass with a distraught face, small tears glistening in her eyes. "I destroyed the best poet ever! What was I thinking?" At that moment, Dawn began to wail loudly and streams of tears ran down her face.

Gary stood there amidst the mess of his love-life, a crying Dawn and a mourning Brock, with not a clue how to handle the situation. Awkwardly, he knelt down on one knee to pat Dawn on the head, "I'm okay, Dawn. You didn't knock all the poetry out of me – I'm just a little, um, dizzy. That's all."

Dawn wiped her eyes, peering up at the stressed researcher. "You're definitely okay?" She asked quietly. Gary nodded in reply, not expecting the emotional flip the girl pulled next. She leapt up and bowled him over in a huge hug, squealing with delight and nuzzling his chest. Gary winced. _Again._

"I'm so sorry and I'm glad you're okay and I love you, I love you, I love you-"

"Dawn, I thought you loved Zoey."

"I do, but I love you so much!"

He sighed and pushed Dawn off of him, standing to his feet.

"So," he began, "who gave May the mallet?" Dawn remained on the ground and played with her hair for a minute, all traces of tears gone.

"Who did she say, who did she say? All I remember was May mentioning that she was a bit scary."

_Scary?_

"And ginger."

_Oh._

Gary closed his eyes and smirked. Yep, that certainly sounded like Misty.

He noticed that the coordinator was pulling a strange face and her cheeks were slowly turning red.

"Okay, Dawn," he motioned for the girl to stop straining her brain – he didn't want to be the cause of any more damage.

Suddenly, he remembered – _Pikachu_.

Running a hand through his hair, he apologized to Dawn. "Sorry to abandon you like this, but I have to go and track down Pikachu. Hopefully it got lost, I guess." Gary shrugged, eager to escape, but Dawn suddenly leapt at him again, wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug. Gary fumbled, unsure as to what to do with his hands.

"Good luck, Gary. Aw, you'll be so cute together," she whispered gently. Gary blushed slightly, awkwardly hugging her back as he imagined Dawn's fantasies about himself and Ash.

"Thanks, I think," he muttered before being forced to push her away.

"Hey," Brock mumbled, still crumpled on the floor, "our camp is a couple a hundred metres down the path, on the left." He gave a thumbs up to the nervous researcher, who smiled slightly in return. "Go get him, man. You both deserve it."

"Thanks, Brock." Gary looked towards the aforementioned pathway.

"Get a move on, Gary. He won't be waiting all day, you know." Gary started as he was shoved by Dawn towards the trees.

He could not believe he was seriously going through with this.

At the clearing, Brock and Dawn watched Gary disappear into the shadows before looking at each other. Brock sighed, rubbing his head. "I wonder how long they'll need." Dawn looked up at the sky, humming to herself.

"I don't know," Dawn rubbed her boots together and sat on the stump that Gary occupied a short while earlier. "Do you think Ash knows?" She asked Brock, keeping her gaze trained on a puffy white cloud floating above her. Brock smiled, tossing a rock up and catching it in one hand.

"I think the question is, Dawn, does Gary know?" Dawn looked over towards the breeder with confusion glazing her eyes. "Don't forget, I've been travelling with Ash for nearly his whole journey – I've seen practically every encounter that he and Gary have had. Today's going to end well, I think."

Dawn contemplated this, leaning down to pick up a dry leaf before twiddling it between her fingers. The clearing was silent and the weather was picking up – the sun was peeking out from behind the tall trees and the prominent rainclouds that sat above them earlier had given way to a stretch of glorious blue, dabbled with white smudges. Dawn sighed and closed her eyes, thinking over the day's events. Peering out from one eye, she looked at Brock, who was sitting hunched over and cross-legged with his chin resting on the palm of his hand, his other hand playing with the blades of grass around him. Turning to face Brock, Dawn coughed and he looked up in her direction. Dawn played with the hem of her dress, wondering whether to ask her question or not. Brock raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

'Oh, what harm can it do?' Dawn pulled a face, before taking in a big breath.

"So, Brock."

"Yes, Dawn?" Brock looked at her, confused. Dawn blinked.

"Who's Professor Ivy?"


	3. Chapter 3

**FOOL, BOY**

**Chapter Three**

* * *

><p>Running, running, running.<p>

Tripping and falling.

Then some more running.

Leaning against a tree.

Late afternoon already.

Cursing Brock's lack of orienteering skills.

Running again.

Don't think, don't think, don't think – tripping _again _on tree roots.

Streaks of dirt all over.

Doesn't matter.

Just look at the path.

Run, just run, just run and don't trip.

Ouch.

Right, get up.

Keep going.

Keep going.

Keep going.

…

_Finally._

Panting slightly, Gary slowed to a halt, noticing the trees thinning to reveal a small clearing. His chest felt tight and his cheeks were flushed and his mind was blank. His worn body welcomed the return of oxygen, allowing his tired muscles to relax somewhat.

Gary's head lolled back. He could see the clearing sky.

Blue.

Bright beautiful blue.

_Cannot relax. It isn't over yet._

Unfortunately, due to his lack of concentration whilst pelting through the forest, his once coal-black shirt now had dark brown dirt all over it and he looked a dishevelled mess. He looked even more unkempt now that he had collapsed onto the forest floor, debris and all sorts clinging to his trousers.

Nonetheless, he was ready. He had absolutely no idea what he was going to say, but he was ready.

Using a tree trunk for leverage, Gary lifted himself to his feet and delicately walked towards the opening of the small clearing.

It was littered with a tent and three sleeping bags. There was a pile of smouldering embers lying in the centre and various pieces of colourful camping equipment sitting in unsystematic piles, nestled in the grass.

Gary crept into the space, checking the sleeping bags and frowning. He looked behind and around himself before coming to the conclusion that the once-inhabited site was now empty; which meant that there was no Ash.

Gary sighed. Life was not going to go easy on him today.

He spun in a circle with a hand pulling at his hair, at a loss of what to do next. He had gotten this far and was too jumpy to simply wait for somebody to return, so he slowly paced around the edge of the clearing instead. He listened intently for something, anything to alert him to the nearby presence of another person.

As he waited, his mind pondered the whereabouts of the reckless boy.

Undoubtedly, he thought, Pikachu had already figured out where his Master was and probably stood by him as he read the message from his friends. It was clear in his mind's eye - he would frown at first. Then he would carelessly toss the attached note to the side and unroll the scroll before glancing over the scruffy, handwritten letters. He would read it all, mouthing the words with soft lips, his gorgeous brown eyes taking in every scrawled word, even if he did not understand them all. His breath would hitch as he saw the separate line at the bottom, and he would pull that insatiable face of confusion. And then, and then…

Gary gulped. He _needed _to find him.

He felt torn between sprinting off into the trees to track down the trainer and do something impulsive – much unlike his usual character and scarily like Ash's – and thinking his situation through calmly and sensibly.

Hastily, Gary grasped the first option and aimlessly ran back into the woodlands.

He was back to running, barging through trees and shouldering away branches.

_Run. Just run. Do not think._

He could not think. He would not allow himself to think. He would dive into this headfirst and damn the consequences, should they be bad.

Gary was exhausted before long. He had to stop. He did not want to stop but his lungs were crying out for mercy. Panting, panting, panting. Breathe, come on. Blood pulsed past his ear drums.

And then he heard something. A shout. A laugh.

He froze, pinning his ears back.

_Stop breathing._

There was a moment of silence before he heard him.

"Pikachu, what was that for? Where've you been? Hold on a second, I'm kinda busy… Just calm down a – hey, what have you got there?"

Gary's eyes widened – he was so close, yet so far! Ash's voice was clear but Gary had no idea which direction it had come from. He listened for another sound.

"A message? Oh, so you went to see Dawn and Brock – I'd wondered where they'd gone. Disappearing on me like that before I'd even woken up…"

Gary heard him to his left and before his brain could catch up, his legs were carrying him towards the aspiring Pokémon Master. Breathing was no longer an issue. He left the path he had been following and cut through the trees, pushing foliage and stray branches out of his way.

His heart beat faster as he got closer to _him._

"I mean, how uncaring can they be? At least you were there, buddy – I would really have been panicking otherwi-" Ash's voice stopped, and Gary halted abruptly, straining to hear something other than his rapidly pulsing heart.

Something.

Anything.

Anyone.

_Please._

"I feel like I'm wasting my time. Will we continue or not?" Gary's eyes flew open at the sound of an unfamiliar voice – a _male_ voice. Continue? Gary's thoughts flew into a fluster. Continue with _what?_ Slowly, he crept towards Ash and his unknown companion, breathing shallowly.

"Yeah, just give me a minute." Ash's voice suddenly sounded strained and Gary swallowed, finally able to see the trainer through a parting in the trees. He could not see the other elusive boy.

"Hn. I knew you weren't worth it." Gary's anger flared. Ash's companion had a voice that was flat yet sharp and in that moment, Gary decided that there was no way he was going to let this insignificant brat talk to Ash like that.

"Look, if you knew that, then why did you say-"

"Ashy-boy?"

* * *

><p>Gary had leapt through the trees surrounding a large battle field, landing a couple of metres away from Ash, and was currently attempting to hide the fact that he had been running to find him for who-knows-how-long by barely breathing.<p>

Ash looked up at him in surprise, noticing the pink flush on Gary's cheeks, before looking back down at the scroll in his hand and the note stuck to it. "Huh," he muttered, "guess Dawn and Brock did meet you in the forest." Gary noticed the small mouse Pokémon pulling on the leg of his master's trousers, glancing over at him every so often.

"Uh, yeah," Gary stammered, trying to formulate a response – an excuse, mainly, for why he had suddenly appeared from nowhere. "I thought that Dawn saying 'hi' for me was impersonal and stuff, so I thought – I thought that I'd come and, you know, say 'hi' myself." Gary stopped, and Ash blinked at him. Gary smiled slightly and waved awkwardly in greeting. "So, hi, I guess." Ash grinned before walking over towards him, and Gary folded his arms, cringing inwardly.

"You searched through the whole forest just to say hello to _me_?" Ash stopped in front of him and cocked his head to the side, scrutinizing Gary's face. He shrugged and pulled a smug grin, "I guess you just missed me that much, huh?"

Gary couldn't tell whether Ash was mocking him or being completely serious and instead, blushed a bright shade of red, breathing heavily. Ash didn't seem to notice as he was temporarily distracted by Pikachu's whining. Gary was about to mutter something to attract the boy's gaze once more, even if it was garbled and incomprehensible, but was unfortunately – or fortunately, perhaps in his case - interrupted.

"Loser has friends, hm? Don't see why they waste their time on someone as pathetic as you." Gary turned to face the intruder and was met with a boy about Ash's age.

He wore an angered expression akin to a Gyarados and had cool lilac hair that harshly framed his pronounced cheekbones. Piercing onyx eyes flashed dangerously at him and Gary's glare was met with a dark scowl. He was temporarily surprised - what was wrong with this guy?

Gary noted out of the corner of his eye that Ash's expression had changed quickly to one of frustration. "Look, Paul, if I'm that much of a waste, just leave. I'm not in the mood anymore."

"Hn." And that, it seemed, was that. Paul, as Gary understood, left with a final dark look in the researcher's direction, before closing his eyes and walking away in silence. Gary looked back to Ash, who was watching the temperamental boy leave with a strange expression on his face. Gary suddenly felt nervous. He needed to know about Paul.

"Well, he seemed nice," he began. "Who is he?" Ash grimaced, his gaze still trained on the retreating back of the trainer.

"That was Paul, my rival," Ash replied quietly, frowning. Gary felt a twinge of jealousy.

"Your rival, huh?" Gary nudged the slightly smaller boy in the side jokingly, in what he hoped was a casual manner. He then smirked and winked. "Ever as good as me?" Ash laughed, looking at Gary, finally.

"In terms of battling, or how you both treat me?" Ash teased and Gary was thrown. He could make a snarky joke about Paul and big-up his ego at the same time – God, that sounds like a good idea – or he could play this towards the ultimate goal of making Ash adore him; or realise Gary's feelings at the very least.

Or he could insult Ash and make a run for the hills.

Ash frowned, noticing Gary's offered silence instead. "Hey, are you okay? You seem a bit off at the moment – and your cheeks are flushed," Ash pressed the back of his hand to Gary's warm face and he tried not to sigh at the relief of the cool touch, and at the fact that Ash was caring about his welfare. "Are you ill?"

"Ah, no, well, yes. I'm just a feeling a bit, uh, strange today," Gary replied weakly with a half-hearted grin, convinced that Ash would pick up on the badly-constructed lie.

"Oh, cool. I get that sometimes too." Ash folded his arms, looking innocently at his former-rival.

Gary blanched. Apparently not.

His train of thought crashed as he briefly felt a gloved palm on his cheek. "Are you sure you're all right? You're pulling strange faces." Ash tilted his head, looking up at the exasperated researcher with a frown tugging at his lip.

Gary tried to breathe calmly. He could do this; he would do this. Telling the truth wasn't that difficult, right?

"The sun's really warm today." Gary grimaced – wrong. He couldn't do this.

"Really?" Ash looked up at the sky and then around him, stretching his arms out wide. "I don't think so – feels pretty cool to me." He flopped onto the grass below him, lying out flat on his back.

Gary shrugged in reply, a comfortable silence settling between the pair. Gary set down gently next to Ash and watched him out of his peripheral vision.

Ash had his eyes closed, his cap shading them from the sun, as his chest rose and fell softly with his quiet breathing. Pikachu was now curled up on his abdomen and gently prodding Ash's hand with his tail, which was lying over his torso. His hand. The hand that was holding the _poem_. Gary stared at the paper, unfocused, deciding to maybe allow events to just play out naturally for once. His interference would probably only lead to more awkward questions than there should be.

"Do you know who it's from, Gary?" Ash startled him, causing Gary to see the boy looking at him with inquisitive half-open eyes. Gary stayed silent, stuck between not wanting to give anything away and not wanting to lie. Ash chuckled. "Look at you. Never seen you be so quiet."

Gary falsely smiled in reply, feeling flustered. "Never felt so lost for words."

Ash smiled at his friend before sitting up next to him, brushing their shoulders together: neither of them moved away. With great care, after several moments of playing with the roll in his hands, Ash removed the note before sliding his nail between the two sides of the sheet and unfolding it.

Gary gulped.

This was it; everything that he had ever thought about this boy and everything that he had ever wanted from him all came down to this moment. He hid his lips behind his hand as he nervously bit at them, causing them to flush red.

Ash held the paper out straight and read the first few lines out loud, his voice ringing across the pitch.

"'_I understand this must be strange, to receive a poem with no name, but it is a love poem nonetheless, one in which I can confess.'" _Ash's eyes widened and he reread the line.

"Uh, Ash?" Gary tapped him on the shoulder after several moments of silence. "Are you okay?" Ash ignored his queries.

"Gary," Ash started instead.

"Yes?"

"It's a love poem."

Gary sighed.

"Wow, it's really long," Ash muttered to himself, scanning the page, before pausing and fixing his gaze on the bottom of the passage. "Hey, Gary." Ash sat up on his knees, leaning over towards the taller boy.

"Yeah?" He swallowed as Ash's hair tickled his left cheekbone.

"I think I know this person. Look at this," he shoved the worn sheet in front of Gary's face, clueless to the effect he was having on him.

"Um, '_Sorry can't fix the things that I've done to you, but believe me Ash when I tell you this – I love you._'" Gary looked towards the sky with a stricken look – how could he have possibly written this? He coughed to clear his throat, turning his head back towards Ash. "They, uh, sound serious." He ruffled his spikes whilst Ash tried to decipher more from the page.

"Dawn got this from someone," Ash said quietly, "she got it from a guy in a cape and wouldn't tell me who. We're in a forest. What are the chances of being in the forest with someone in a cape who loves me, and someone who's sorry for things they've done?" Ash slumped over, his chin resting in his palm as he thought. Gary felt his hand become clammy – it could only be a matter of time before Ash realised tha-

"Lance sent me a love poem?" Ash's eyes were wide as his face turned to the image of puzzlement. Gary felt like whacking the poor boy up-side the head.

"No, Ash. Why on earth would the champion of the Kanto League be in Sinnoh to send you a love poem?" Ash relaxed slightly, looking somewhat relieved that he didn't have to be the subject of Lance's intense emotions; as powerful as his Dragon Pokémon, in all probability.

"Hmm... Dawn?" he offered instead, looking towards the older boy.

"I don't think so - Dawn said she got it from a guy, didn't she?"

"Oh, right." A few moments of hush passed before the trainer dramatically burst into life again. "I know! I know who it is! He doesn't wear a cape, but I know who it is! Who else could it be?" Ash suddenly twisted to grab Gary's shoulders, shaking him back and forth. "Gary, Gary, Gary, what am I going to do?"

Gary was confused. "Who do you think it is?"

"Are you an idiot?" Ash looked at Gary incredulously, "It was Brock! All this time and it was Brock! Girl-loving, Pokémon-breeder, best-friend Brock!" Gary sighed, grabbing Ash's face between his hands to calm him down.

"Ash, it was not Brock." Ash looked at him, helplessly muddled. "Brock has nothing to apologize to you for, plus he is head-over-heels in love with every pretty girl to have ever existed. And in all honesty, do you really think he could write a poem like this?" Gary raised an eyebrow at the boy, watching his shoulders slump in relief.

"Oh, thank God, because that could have been really awkward."

"At least you have me here to help figure it out," Gary ruffled his hair and laughed as Ash batted away his hand with a dash of red over his cheeks. "So, got any more ideas?" Ash tilted his head to the side, looking in the direction that the angry-boy had left earlier. His jaw dropped.

"Paul? _Paul?_ There is no way that-" Ash was stopped by a hand covering his mouth.

"Don't worry, Ash. There's no way that it was Paul," Gary smiled tightly once more at the boy's dear look of confusion. Although Gary sometimes found Ash's complete lack of common sense to be quite amusing, today he was finding it quite nerve-wrecking.

"Oh, okay… Wait, how do you know that there was no way it was Paul?" Ash pointed a finger at Gary suspiciously and leaned in closer to his face, causing Gary to blush – again.

"Because, um, he was here, when I was with Dawn, when she saw the guy," Gary spluttered, trying not to fall backwards.

"You were with her?"

Oh, shit.

"Erm, yes?"

"When she saw the guy?"

"Ash, really, don't you-"

"You know who it is?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"Why won't you just tell me?"

"Look, it's really not that sim-"

"If you were a good friend you would have told me who this guy was already and-"

"Ash, just listen, I'm pretty sure-"

"-I wouldn't be worrying so much about this and-"

"Wait, why are you so worried about it?"

"-and I'm so confused and it hurts, Gary, it hurts to know that there is someone out there who likes me and I can't do anything about it-"

"Ash, pay attention-"

"-and I need to know-"

"Really, you need to listen to me."

"-I have to know-"

"Won't you just shut up for a minute?

"-why can't you – hey, what are you-mmf!"

Ash had frozen with shock, eyes wide and staring at Gary's face as he was effectively quieted. The answer he had been searching for dawned upon him. Gary had his eyes scrunched close, eyebrows furrowed with apprehension as he hoped his impulsive actions worked out for the best. If they didn't, well, at least he would always have this moment – the moment where, for the first time in his life, he felt that magic that all girls seem to babble on about.

Flushing, Gary drew his head away from Ash's face and sat back on the grass, no longer making contact with the trainer. He stared intently at the blades around him, which now seemed a lot more interesting than they were a few minutes ago, and plucked one from the ground before tearing it to pieces. Ash watched, trying to say something.

"It was you," he stated rather blandly after a few moments, trying to catch Gary's eyes. "You wrote the poem, you spoke to Dawn."

Gary would not look up. He tore up several more blades of grass instead.

"My best friend - my rival," Ash's voice cracked and he wanted so badly to touch his shoulder, to make him look up.

But his hand remained on his knee, loosely holding the poem. He swallowed.

"You love me," Ash whispered, looking at the side of his head.

Gary dropped the blades of grass, letting his hands fall as his heart beat furiously. He looked at the boy, who was in turn staring at the field.

"Yes." Weak. He could say nothing more.

Silence. A long, long silence.

"Gary Oak loves me," Ash muttered again, trying to make sense of it all in his head. He looked up and their gazes met, causing Gary to stop breathing. "You wore a cape once."

Gary chuckled uncertainly, "So I did." Quietness began to settle over the pair, begging to be banished.

"Why didn't," Ash tried to talk, but felt quite tongue-tied. He swallowed before trying once more. "Why didn't you say something before, when you first saw me?"

"I couldn't." Gary was still wary and suffering from shock, caused by the slight probability that his feelings may just be reciprocated. "I'd come to try and stop you reading the poem." Ash frowned.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to tell you face to face." Gary looked skywards. "It was Dawn's fault that Pikachu brought it to you anyway."

"I'm glad he brought me the poem," Ash said hastily, ruffling the Pokémon's coat. After a moment of accidental tugging on his fur, however, Pikachu bounded off, back into the forest, leaving the pair alone.

"So it was a good thing it happened?" Gary offered weakly, and Ash nodded briskly, his mouth tightly shut.

Relieved, Gary grinned, watching Ash blush and look away. "From your reactions, I'm guessing this isn't the first time you've thought about us, hm?" Ash played with his hands. "Ash," Gary said quietly, "do you like me?"

The boy shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, but I couldn't tell you about it because I hardly ever see you. You're never _always _here."

"Well," Gary moved in closer, still slightly hesitant, "I'm here right now, and I'm telling you that I l-love you, Ashy-boy. What're you going to do?"

"I-I don't know, I feel really weird," Ash stammered, his face and neck heating up with embarrassment.

"Come on now, no need to be shy," Gary murmured, red still splashed across his cheekbones despite his cocky demeanour, "I want to know what you want me to do." He moved in so his lips were tantalizingly close to Ash's, and Ash floundered before blurting out a request.

"Hold my hand!" Ash blushed furiously, and Gary blanched.

"Hold your hand?" He raised an eyebrow. "You don't want me to kiss you or something?"

"Ah, why would I want you to?" Ash ducked his head before mumbling, "You just did that," whilst playing with his hands in his lap and pulling at his lower lip. The silence was broken by a whisper and a chuckle. "This is so awkward."

Gary felt a nervous panic pull at his heart once more, but held out a palm regardless, watching as the smaller boy looked at his hand with surprise. Tentatively, Ash reached out and lets his palm meet with Gary's.

They blinked.

"Hold on a sec," Gary quickly withdrew his hand and Ash panicked, before realising that Gary was only trying to remove his glove. "You wear these all the time, and I can only feel material – there we go." Gary smiled, tossing the glove over his shoulder before grabbing Ash's hand again.

It was warm, Ash noted, and at that moment, he realised he adored holding Gary's hand, even if it did make him feel like a small child. He boldly interlocked their fingers and gave a small squeeze, looking up into Gary's eyes, before sniggering. Gary pulled on Ash's arm, worried that he was being laughed at.

"What is it? What did I do?" Ash shuffled closer to Gary in response and held their hands in his lap, still grinning.

"Oh, nothing," Ash ran the fingers of his other hand over the back of Gary's knuckles. "It's just, in everything I've ever imagined, I never actually thought I would be here, holding hands with Gary Oak. I was scared for a minute that you would say no."

Gary smiled, closing his eyes, relishing in the warmth of the summer sun and heat from the trainer next to him. "Aw, Ashy-boy, you're so cute."

"I'm not cute," Ash muttered defiantly, flicking Gary's hand for good measure.

Gary laughed at Ash's cute attempts to not appear cute. "Ha, okay, whatever you say."

"Hm."

"I still think you're cute." Ash thwacked Gary on the shoulder, before huffing.

"I should get Dawn to hit you with that mallet of hers."

Gary sat up, eyebrows disappearing into his hair line. "Wait – you know about that?"

"Yeah, she's used it on me several times."

Gary pouted and tapped the side of his head with his free hand, mumbling angrily. Ash smiled, and awkwardly wrapped Gary's arm around his neck, snuggling into his shoulder.

"Oh, yeah, so not cute, Ash," Gary laughed, holding him in tighter as Ash sighed.

"Whatever. I don't care anymore."

"Really?"

"Truly."

Gary ruffled Ash's hair, and he pushed away from him in annoyance, pulling his hat straight.

"Gary, you're ruining my hair." Gary smirked.

"You mean, it's not already ruined?"

"You're one to talk." Ash punctuated his response with a ruffle of Gary's hair, causing the taller boy to lean out of his reach, biting his lip in an attempt to not laugh. Grabbing Ash's wrists, he put on a serious expression and closed his eyes, pulling a pose.

"My hair is artistic." Ash snorted, pulling his arms from Gary's grasp, and snuggling into his side once more.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Gary." They fell into silence once more, both with smiles pulling at their lips.

"You know, we should do this more often," Gary sighed into Ash's hair and squeezed his shoulders gently.

"Definitely," Ash replied softly, reaching for Gary's free hand. They touched and Ash closed his eyes, relaxing into the unfamiliar sensation of being adored. They breathed slowly, listening to the chirping emanating from the surrounding tree tops.

A thought flitted through Ash's mind, as he saw that the day was beginning to come to a close. He would not mind exploring this for a while, not at all.

His fingers tightened around Gary's own.

"Travel with us?"

_Squeeze._

"I thought you would never ask."


	4. Chapter 4

**FOOL, BOY**

**Chapter Four**

* * *

><p><em>Finale<em>

* * *

><p>A couple of hours later, Pikachu stumbled back onto the battlefield where his Master-Friend and Umbreon-Owner were residing a couple of hours ago. Now, however, the area was deserted.<p>

"Pika?"

Perching up on his hind legs, he listened for an indication of the whereabouts of his Master-Friend. His ears twitched in the slight breeze and he heard, carried by the air, a shout and a group laughing.

"Pika-pi!" Pushing off from the ground, he started to run towards the noise, before stumbling over an object. Pausing, Pikachu recognised it as the sheet that the Blue-Girl had told him to bring to his Master-Friend. He couldn't read it, but it was important to Blue-Girl and Umbreon-Owner that his Master-Friend had it.

It was typical of his Master-Friend to leave it behind, especially after he had gone through so much effort to make sure Master-Friend received it quickly and safely.

Deftly, Pikachu picked up the paper between his teeth and held it gently, not wanting to damage Master-Friend's gift. Trotting along quietly, Pikachu thought that it was strange for Umbreon-Owner to turn up out of the blue, but Master-Friend looked so happy about it, especially when he read the paper stuck to the gift, that Pikachu didn't mind.

If Master-Friend was happy with Umbreon-Owner, then Pikachu was happy.


End file.
